Fur Beneath Her Fingertips
by CrimsonCobwebs
Summary: Garnet's thoughts on Zidane's tail. Fluff - no pun intended ha ha. Sexual themes. Lime. R&R plz.
1. I

'Curiosity killed the cat'  
(but satisfaction brought him back)

Though she would never admit it to anyone, it fascinated her. Simply _fascinated _her.

And she couldn't think why, exactly, either. Gaia was inhabited by demi-beasts too, like Freya, but this was different, probably because everything was natural _except _that. Plus, it stuck out like a gem among stones, always moving, dusting the ground when he sat and swinging when he walked. Despite being incredibly unnatural, the thing suited him well.

She watched it swing from side to side, an unwitting tool for portraying unspoken emotion.

Suddenly, Zidane turned and Garnet quickly averted her eyes to the ground. She flicked them back to his but realised (with a sigh of relief) he wasn't looking at her but behind, azure gaze fixed on the countryside they were trekking through, slight frown marring his complexion. Scanning the environment for possible enemies. He looked intense, ready for anything.

Then he noticed her stare and threw her one of his stupid grins, obviously exuberant that she was looking at him instead of vice-versa, for a change. She returned his cheeky smirk with a wan smile and he turned back, apparently satisfied.

As soon as she was certain he wasn't looking again, her gaze slid back to what fascinated her so: his tail.

Strangely, when she first met him outside her chamber two months (an eternity) ago, it wasn't the first thing she noticed. As cliché as it sounds (and she would never admit this to anyone either) it was his eyes that struck her first. Unusually large and perpetually alight with aplomb, indiscreetly divulging emotions that most would attempt to hide. When he'd first approached she had witnessed a flirtatious sparkle (that had yet to dissipate and she wondered it ever would) and craftiness that made her instantly wary. Knowing what she did now, she recognised them as the eyes of a thief. But after getting to know him she saw within those depths an unyielding, heroic persistence that verged on recklessness, and a deep kindness she had yet to witness in another person.

Anyway, Garnet hadn't noticed his furry appendage until he had made her vow to kidnap her and was leading her into a different room. Trailing behind him she spotted his tail, thrashing back and forth with excitement, and nearly cried out. For an awful moment her thoughts flew to a story her father had told her as a child. The villain in said tale was a demon who wore the skins of human beings as a disguise while he carried out deceitful crimes, but one day, in a moment of recklessness, forgot to hide his tail, and thus was discovered.

It sounds positively awful thinking back, that she had initially likened Zidane to a demon. She had watched it, half scared and half intrigued, as it whipped the air, seeming to move on its own accord. At first she had wanted to shout: "You have a tail!" but thought that would be rather impolite and gauche, and he probably knew anyway, so she kept that little gem to herself.

Zidane never mentioned it, but then why should he? People don't suddenly bring up their arms and legs in daily conversation, and she was sure Zidane viewed his unusual asset as nothing but another limb. Besides, back when she'd first met him she'd yet to see the world. Perhaps somewhere it was normal to have a tail? She didn't want to seem ignorant, so simply didn't ask.

But now she had crossed most of Gaia and was yet to meet someone of human appearance with such an extraordinary extremity.

And this only fanned the flame of her fascination.

When she was positive -absolutely _positive _- no one was looking, _especially _Zidane - for being caught staring was most discourteous - she would contently watch its erratic habits with unquenchable interest. Her mother had owned a cat once, and it seemed to display all the traits the cats' had. When he was angry or agitated it thrashed and twitched. When he was sleeping it curled along his thigh, motionless. When he was happy it twitched delightedly and when he was thinking it was content to swing its lazy course side to side.

Like it was doing now.

Suddenly (but not for the first time) an inexplicable urge to reach out and touch it sifted to the forefront of her desires. It was swaying hypnotically a metre or so in front of her. Tantalising. Beckoning.

Garnet shook her head. She couldn't just reach out and touch it! She wouldn't reach out and impartially stroke his arm so why would a tail differ?

She sighed and reluctantly dropped her gaze to the grass beneath her feet. They were currently trekking across a plain so vast the cloud's shadows could be seen ghosting across the green surface, thick blots of grey sliding across the landscape like boats on smooth seas. The sun was bright in the sky but it was blessedly cool. Said variables made for perfect strolling conditions - aside from the occasional interruption of roaming monsters.

Garnet was currently tagging behind their small crowd. Steiner usually wouldn't allow her to fall behind but the plains were flat so they could see and hear anything coming by quite a distance. Eiko was skipping ahead picking wild flowers and adorning her hair, Freya lost in thought behind, Amarant a distance apart (loner as ever), Quina somewhere nearby and Zidane and Steiner not far in front of the princess. She could hear their gentle tread on the earth and the distant call of birds.

Her eyes flitted up and were inevitably drawn to Zidane's tail again, still waving idly back and forth like a furry metronome.

She recalled the only time she'd seen him use his tail for anything productive. It had been pure luck that she caught it, when they were seated around a campfire. She hadn't been watching him particularly, had just glanced at him once or twice to find he was sharpening one of his daggers. His brow was furrowed with concentration as he expertly slid the blade along a flat rock he'd found, sparks bouncing off the weapon like soldiers abandoning ship. By chance, she looked up in time to witness his tail curl around the hilt of his other dagger, lift it clean off the ground while he was sheathing the sharpened one, then hand it to him, before thumping back onto the dusty earth and twitching away.

For a moment she had simply remained motionless and lost in a stupor of amazement, slight revulsion and admiration. From then on the appendage ceased being likened to cats' in her mind, and more to a monkey's. Cat's tails definitely weren't strong or agile enough to pick things as heavy as weapons up. Well, she hadn't seen a monkey do that either, but she knew their tails were burly enough to support their weight from tree limbs. Maybe because Zidane had the intellect of a human (though Steiner would brusquely disagree) meant he could meticulously manipulate its actions.

She continued to scrutinise the tail. Its fur was a dusky blonde (a shade darker than the hair of his head) and didn't look particularly luscious. It was thick and coarse, probably not smooth and silky like she'd presumed before closer inspection (when he had been sitting in front of her, attention elsewhere) proved otherwise. This didn't perturb her desire to touch it, though.

Garnet watched with unabated interest the passage of the furry limb until she simply couldn't resist any longer. Gaze flicking side to side, she made sure no one was watching, then slowly extended her arm, heart thumping in her chest.

Then a thought came to her. What if he turned and found her fixedly staring at his behind with her arm outstretched?

She barely managed to swallow an inappropriate snicker and failed to prevent the blush from creeping into her complexion.

Still, she didn't lower her arm and now her fingers were tantalisingly close the tip of his tail. She prayed to the eidolons that no one witnessed this. There was something perverse about the whole thing but she simply couldn't resist and gave a sudden lurch forward.

Her fingers brushed the very end of his tail. It twitched violently, then resumed its normal path. He either hadn't noticed or mistook the feathery touch for an insect, because he showed no sign of being disturbed.

She bit down a giggle and considered doing it again. If she did it a second time would he notice? Would he turn around? What would she do then? Perhaps it was safer just to leave the subject - and the tail - well alone.

But it was still alluringly close and now she was getting all giggly and silly.

Suddenly dizzy with inexplicable confidence she leaned forward and instead of skimming the end of his tail, slid her fingers along a large portion of the length.

Zidane lurched a little and spun round, scratching his behind. Garnet nearly walked into him and feigned a look of mild surprise and indignation.

"Hey!" she said. "Be careful, Zidane!"

The thief didn't move and stuck his bottom lip out, frowning. He looked so confused that it took all her resolve to prevent the burst of laughter from escaping her lips.

"Oh… um, sorry," he said finally. "I just thought… never mind."

"What are you saying to the princess, you rapscallion?" Steiner's voice boomed from nearby.

Garnet waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing! It's nothing!"

Zidane resumed walking but beside Garnet instead of in front of her, much to latter's dismay. The princess sighed and stared at the grass crunching pleasantly beneath her feet.

She had been right; his tail was coarse like horse hair and she had an inkling that it would be firm, wiry, muscular. Not like a cat's tail at all, but more dexterous than a monkey's. Unique.

Garnet wanted to spare him a fugitive glance, but wagered it wouldn't be so fugitive because he'd notice immediately. However, she did mange to study him out the corner of her eye and he seemed unfazed.

They walked in comfortable silence.

Still, the playfulness - a trait she so rarely displayed and it was probably thanks to Zidane that it was showing at all - still hadn't left her system and she longed, now, to find out whether it was as strong and muscular as she assumed.

She waited a few more minutes until his suspicion (if there was any) faded before feigning interest in a cluster of flowers at her feet. She dropped to her knees and, as she had hoped, Zidane carried on walking, casting nothing but a glance of mild interest. She smirked jubilantly to her herself and stood up, reclaiming her position behind him, but slyly this time, thoroughly enjoying her little game.

His tail had resumed its casual sway and she felt a mischievous smile tug her lips. Making sure no one was looking again, she darted forward and fully grabbed the end of his tail.

This time, Zidane released a high-pitched, unmanly yelp, skidding to a stop. She felt the hairs stir beneath her palm and realised that his entire tail had bristled like the branch of a pine tree. She let out a childish giggle before quickly releasing the appendage from grasp.

Zidane turned so violently for a terrifying moment she thought he was inclined to strike her, but thankfully misjudged the severity of his reaction. He glared fiercely instead, rubbing the base of his tail and shouting: "_What the hell, Dagger_?!"

She blinked up at him guilelessly, biting her lip in an attempt to appear innocent though truthfully it helped prevent the impish grin perking her lips from spreading further and revealing her delight.

Zidane seemed anything _but _delighted, however, and he was no fool. She had undoubtedly grabbed his tail and obviously wasn't about to admit it and was poorly attempting to mask her glee with a confounded innocent expression that infuriatingly made his anger ebb away into slight irritation and confusion.

"Ho!?" Steiner bellowed, suddenly alert to this situation. "What goes there?! What are you doing to the princess now, you heathen?!"

Freya snickered. "Can't we leave you alone with the princess for two seconds?"

Zidane's jaw dropped and he peered round, obviously offended by the incorrect accusations thrown at him. "B-but…!"

And now Garnet was getting embarrassed. He'd tell them what she'd done and goodness knows what they'd think of her! She could feel the blush spreading already!

Zidane cast her another questioning look and sighed, defeated. "Nothing. Dagger accidentally stepped on my ankle."

Garnet perked up, elated and surprised at once.

"Well, firstly, there's no need to make such a fuss! Secondly, the princess is not to have abuse thrown at her like some common wench, is that understood? And thirdly -"

"Alright, Steiner," Garnet coaxed, pulling him away, ashamed that Zidane should bear admonishment for her behaviour. "That's enough."

She ambled away, too embarrassed to risk another glance in Zidane's direction, and continued the trek beside Steiner.

The feel of his fur lingered upon her fingertips. She had undoubtedly discerned the muscle beneath the coat, hinting at a strength he rarely paraded. She entwined her hands behind her back, a mischievous smile splitting her fingers, and imagined Zidane's tail twitching with irritation when he noticed her satisfied expression.

_Hee, hee, I'd had this batting around in my head for some time. Man, I write too many of these fluff, drabble thingys. But the possibilities are endless! I wish I knew someone with a tail lol. I might do a second more… um…_ intimate _chapter, if you know what I mean ;) If people like this chapter, that is! You know what to do!_


	2. II

_(hey little devil that dwells inside  
this angel's body, this angel's mind)_

Why?

Why?

__

Why…?

No matter how hard Garnet analysed the situation the answers continued to evade her grasp like bees buzzing round her fingertips. It simply didn't make sense! Sure she had her theories, especially with the events that transpired yesterday, but honestly, it was a completely unprecedented exploit - even for Zidane! What had he been thinking? Why had he done it? _Why_?

Possible options ran through her mind for the hundredth time that evening: to prove a point? To get his own back? To tell her something? Show her something? Relay a warning? A hidden message? Was it just frivolity? A petty joke?

She considered the last but shook her head. If he had done it with flippant intentions then where had the playful smirk been? The twinkle in his eye usually accompanied by a flirtatious wink? And surely he would have openly joked about it; certainly wouldn't have tried (and succeeded - gods that was the worst part!) to hide it?

__

Why?

Or perhaps… perhaps the answer was obvious. Perhaps it was - dare she think such thoughts? - an honest display of affection that was so meaningful he was inclined to hide it from the others because he'd wanted it to be something… private. A gesture so intimate he prohibited the others from viewing _their _moment.

No!

All that playful flirtation was part of his mischievous nature; it was meaningless.

Right?

The very thought of what had passed between them bought back the feelings that had left her stranded in an ocean of unfamiliarity. _Drowned _her, more like. There had been a fair cauldron of emotion bubbling over and coursing through her veins. Simple, explainable emotions like embarrassment, anxiety (what if someone had seen?), violation, self-consciousness, outrage. Yet even these were clouded by the alien sensations that released wild butterflies in the pit of her stomach, made her skin tingle and colours appear more vivid. Excitement, anticipation, lust (yes, even that!) and lo-

No. Not that. Not yet, if ever.

Anyhow, it had been shocking enough to leave her speechless. Or at least, that's what she told herself. She could have cried out and alerted the group, but something held her back. What was it? She was indebted to his silence over the antics concerning his tail, but she guessed that wasn't completely it.

If she was to be truthful, she'd rather enjoyed it.

That self confession was enough to set her cheeks aflame once more and she fleetingly wondered if this was his way of getting back at her. Surely, after her brush with his tail thoughts such as these had tortured him, too. Perhaps this was payback.

But again, the solemn expression, averted eyes, the pinkish tinge to his complexion. So, what was it, then? A genuine, amorous gesture? Was she reading too much into it?

And so her thoughts circled back to the inevitable conclusion: why?

Garnet shook her head and sighed, curiosity remained unquenched but mollified for now. She returned her attention, instead, to the matter at hand: washing clothes.

The group had spent the day trekking through a vast meadow of thigh-high grass, dotted with colourful bursts of wild flowers. A brisk wind caused the grass to undulate, shiver and slide like snake scales. It would have been particularly beautiful if not for the grey sky and persistent veil of drizzle that dampened the mood (not the mention the environment) and made the grass sticky to wade through. It also hindered mobility, resulting in too many near misses while engaged in battle, so now their little group was dispirited not only by the weather, but the cuts, grazes and bruises too numerous to count. Garnet sported her own, too, despite Zidane's fervent attempt to protect her with his bulk, and the muggy weather made it ache something fierce.

A few hours before present, they'd discovered a shallow brook snaking through the hillside and set up camp behind the protective hump of a boulder. Usually they'd sleep beneath the stars around a fire, but when the rain didn't let up they pitched four tents and huddled in the openings, throwing mundane conversation back and forth with the buoyancy of a deflated ball.

Garnet could hardly bear it, and Zidane had been particularly distant and dispirited since his little… _action _earlier that day. Luckily, joviality wasn't top of the menu tonight, so no one thought much of his pensive mood and thus, suspicion was gratuitously averted.

At any rate, Garnet offered to take up laundry duty and Quina eagerly volunteered to assist (any duties outside camp had to be conducted in pairs for safety's sake) claiming that the weather bought forth the 'juiciest' toads. Garnet didn't complain but outright refused to eat one of the slimy amphibians the Qu offered her on their way to the brook, and almost threw up when he/she gobbled it alive and kicking in one bite.

Thankfully, Quina was not one for conversation (inclined to snuffle around in the undergrowth muttering to his/herself), which left Garnet pretty much alone with her thoughts and inevitably the events that had transpired just hours ago tentatively unfolded like petals on a flower.

Her and Zidane had said little to each other since the little escapade with his tail; just brief, necessary chat about sleeping, eating, battling and so forth. The normal flirtatious banter had vanished like mist on a sunny morning. She thought he kept a wary eye on her though, but often his expression was vacant, seeming lost in a cavern of thought. Thoughts about her, she presumed (and often fancied, though she would never admit such a thing). These thoughts were worryingly indiscernible and she began regretting her foolish endeavour. How was she to know it would fracture their friendship so? How was she to know he didn't like his tail being touched?

Yet all this changed on the plaza.

The flat plains they had been traversing the day gone had morphed into hills of gentle gradient and the grass had thinned out into rocky plateaus where scraggy weeds forced themselves between cracks. It was somewhat desolate compared to the grasslands.

However, they eventually came to a plaza that stopped short of a two hundred feet drop, the ground beneath a wild meadow. This plateau allowed flawless overview of the next bout of countryside they'd be trekking across (how Garnet's feet ached and how the blisters complained inside her leather shoes!) so they stopped briefly to survey aforementioned landscape, the mismatched gang fanning across the jagged lip.

Garnet stood close to Zidane. Eiko was chattering about how beautiful everything looked, Freya was ominously relaying her opinion on the then distant veil of rain and iron-clouds and Vivi was absently wrenching one of the scraggily weeds from its nook in the rock face. Garnet was so enthralled with the beautiful scenery that what happened next was more than a little shocking.

Something slid up her leg.

Its touch was initially so faint she ignored it, thinking it a stray breeze or someone behind her, but then the touch became more persistent, calling for attention. It became a _caress_.

Garnet froze. Her breath stopped sharp in her lungs but her heart suddenly beat with furious intensity in a way she had never experienced before. Not the kind of pumping experienced after strenuous exercise. It was painful yet pleasant thumping, as if her heart was striving for recognition inside her chest. She thought her entire body must be pounding with the beat.

Zidane didn't stir. All she could see was the astounding view and the back of his head, the curve of his shoulder, the gentle slope of his neck (when had she begun to notice things like that?) and she daren't look down.

For some reason she felt no fear. She knew it was not a monster, nor a tentacle like the awful vines that had ensnared her within the Evil Forest. This touch was too soft, too tender, too… considerate.

And truthfully, she knew what it was anyway. Perhaps that's why she didn't flinch away.

Her eyes remained fixed on the landscape, though they immediately stopped _seeing _it when the caress edged higher up her leg, inching above her knee and snaking up the inside of her thigh, causing her to tense and the breath to hitch in her throat. Her chest became ridiculously tight and a sudden hotness spreading across the pit of her stomach and between her legs sent alarm bells ringing in her ears.

It was his tail. _His tail! _His tail snaking up her thigh toward… toward…

She didn't know what to do. Should she move away? Stay put? Make a joke of the situation? Push him away? Call for Steiner? Was he molesting her? Was this the reason why mother had disallowed members of the opposite sex to enter her chamber? But surely this couldn't be violation. To be classed as violation one member of the party must disagree to such action and Garnet certainly wasn't objecting… But what did that mean? Surely she wasn't… enjoying….?

His tail suddenly crept an inch higher and her head felt full of air, like she would drift away if she didn't gain some purchase on the ground.

Just as the alarm bells became prominent - because she really _should _put a stop to it, and really, she will _really _- his tail coiled round the top of her thigh and stayed there, motionless. Now she was so close she could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and see the slight rise and fall of his shoulders and she noticed he smelt of rain and…and… of _Zidane_.

Garnet swallowed and it seemed hideously loud. She was acutely, painfully aware of her fellow comrades, still surrounding them and still oblivious - how she prayed this was the case! - but if anyone spotted the appendage's position she would surely die of embarrassment! What if Steiner saw? Or Eiko? Or Quina? Discretion was not a prominent personality trait in any of the aforementioned.

Suddenly she wanted it off. It was too much. Touching his tail was just a giggly game she'd played but this was completely different. It was… was… (dare she say it?)… _sexual… _and he knew it! Darn him, he _knew _it! He was taking advantage of her! How naïve did he think she was?

She blinked and breathed (how long had she been holding it for?) and took a careful step backward. His tail didn't relent its grip, however, and she stumbled a little, off balance. It constricted like a python and she vividly imagined his face splitting with a teasing smirk. Treating her like a child again.

How _dare _he!

She yanked her leg backward with all the strength she could muster and he yelped, fell to the ground, tail unravelling jerkily as he attempted (and failed) to regain balance.

And that's when she saw his expression. His cheeks were pink, like hers, and his eyes revealed nothing of their usual frivolity. Quite the contrary; they were quiet, tense, almost nervous. His gaze flicked upward to capture hers for a brief, unreadable second, then averted to the ground again.

Dumbstruck, Garnet could do nothing but stare.

"Zidane!" Eiko yelled. "What the hell are you doing?"

All eyes turned in their direction, any conversation briefly aborted.

Zidane scratched the back of his head and laughed a laugh that convinced even Garnet. "What? Can't a guy sit down for a second?"

Eiko cocked her head. "Oh. I thought you fell over."

"Blundering fool," was Amarant's take on the situation.

Zidane got up and stretched, back turned to Garnet, tail curling upward and fur stirring. "Alright people, let's mosey."

And that was the end of the ordeal (or so she assumed) and now Garnet was left with nothing but her circling thoughts, a lingering impression on her upper thigh and a fluttering, heady sensation in the pit of her stomach. What was it called?

Lo -

No, not that. Not yet.

__

Okay this isn't finished. Originally, there was gonna be more to this chap but I think I'm gonna shove it in a third, final chapter. Call it the 'Tail Trilogy' lol. I should've entitled this chap 'Zidane's Revenge' haha. Feedback always appreciated (hint, hint)!


	3. III

_(I wish you couldn't figure me out  
__But you'd always wanna know what I was about)_

_._

Her protest was barely a whisper. "Stop! Stop…please, this has gone too far…"

"No."

"Please… you must. It's too much for me to handle."

"Too much?"

"Yes!" she pleaded, squirming. "No more! It might hurt…."

Never had she voiced objection to such activity. Well, to be honest, she'd never been given the opportunity to _partake _in such activity and as a result felt too young and inexperienced to successfully achieve anything. What was she meant to feel? Excitement? Anxiety? Disgust? She was virgin to such things.

"Please, I'm asking you to stop," she whimpered. "I simply can't bear it anymore. Put it down."

The being in front of her shifted, obviously irritated, then dropped the gigantic toad and huffed. "Fine!" Quina yelled. "You very bossy person, sometimes."

Garnet shook her head and silently urged the amphibian to leap away before the Qu changed his/her mind. It seemed her unvoiced plea was heard, and the thing hopped into the bubbling brook and swam away.

_Thank goodness, _Garnet thought. If she had to witness Quina's repulsive eating habits once more she thought she would throw up (the frogs made an awful squealing noise when captured and the Qu would often prolong the death by devouring them limb by limb. The frog's legs would protrude from his/hers grotesque mouth, paddling uselessly). Not only that, but she almost felt sorry for the poor things. They barely stood a chance against the bumbling Qu and she'd stopped mentally recording the death toll after it edged over fifteen and a half (yes, sometimes he/she wouldn't even eat them all. Garnet avoided looking toward a pair of disfigured frog legs sprawled across a stepping-stone).

Clearly not done scolding the princess, Quina continued: "You no understand ways of gourmand. You very ignorant lady. You try stop me eating delicious delicacy?"

"No, all I'm saying is -"

"I no listen to you! I no care if you princess or queen or whatever. I no take orders from you! I must fulfil destiny!"

And with that remarkable statement the Qu departed; waddled away into the foliage, angrily muttering to his/herself with an air of injustice that suggested Garnet's demand to be nothing less than utter blasphemy. Maybe it was, but frankly, she didn't care. She respected other cultures' beliefs, but having to watch live frogs being eaten was too much for her fragile mentality.

However, thanks to her big mouth, she was alone.

This didn't bother her half as much as it would have done a few months earlier. The presence of aggressive monsters was noticably absent upon her trek to the brook, so she assumed the land considerably safe.

Now that Quina had ceased devouring hapless amphibians, Garnet resumed grovelling in the dirt beside the creek, which was as wide as she was long and no deeper than a hand-span. It was diamond-clear, apparently unpolluted since the group was miles from any city, and thanks to this untainted water source the thigh-high foliage surrounding her was thriving.

Garnet had chosen a spot sheltered by a handful of trees, circling the area like guards on duty. It provided cover from potential enemies, and the branches were good for hanging the wet washing on.

She cast her gaze to the aforementioned bundle of dirty garments. She'd never done laundry before her departure from the castle (that was left to the maids) yet she found the menial task strangely soothing. Of course, it _was _tedious: the dirt was gruelling to remove, obstinately caking cotton vests, leather jackets and corduroy breeches, but it gave her some time to think while keeping her hands busy. Quina's habits had successfully distracted her from the task at hand, however, so a good half an hour was already wasted and the sun was beginning to disappear completely. If she looked up she would find a sky splashed in fiery palate: blood reds, soft ambers, rose pinks. The long shadows seemed to take on these marvellous hues, rich browns substituting the lacklustre greys. As a result, the environment was dynamic.

Garnet wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and dumped one of Steiner's sweat-stained shirts into the creek. The material ballooned and clouds of dirt coasted downstream. She began the exasperating task of scrubbing at it with her bare hands (they'd run out of soap some miles back) until the yellow patches became off-white and the dirt and blood flaked away.

So rapt was she in given task that she failed to hear him approach.

"Hey."

Stunned, she dropped the garment and the current whisked it away. She cried out and lunged for it, missed, lunged again (like Quina catching frogs, she thought humourlessly) but he got there first, leaping forward and planting his booted foot into the stream. The shirt coiled around his ankle and he swooped down to pluck it from the brook's watery grasp, triumphant smirk on his face.

"Here ya go," he said, holding out the sopping shirt.

Garnet took it from him and stood on her tiptoes to hang it over a spindly branch to dry.

"What are you doing here, Zidane?" she asked, a little harsher than intended.

He cocked his head. "Came to see if you're alright."

She frowned. Was he referring to the present, or his antic earlier?

He correctly interpreted the confused expression and translated: "I wanted to see if you needed help with the washing."

"Oh." She cast a fleeting glance toward the mountain of soiled clothes. "I can do it."

"Pretty big pile."

"I can do it."

"Really, I don't mind."

"I said I can -"

"I'll wash them opposite you so the dirt don't get on your washing."

She simmered a little (_he never listens!), _stubbornness rearing its head, but eventually backed down. It was unlike Zidane to persist so ardently, especially with something like washing. Obviously he had something to say and even though she really didn't want to confront her tender emotions toward what had transpired the last few days, she knew it had to be done eventually. Why not now? There may not be a chance after today.

Not waiting for a response, Zidane picked up half the clothes from the pile and dumped them over the otherside before hopping across himself.

Garnet found herself watching the passage of his tail; the way it flattened and extended to full length, enabling him to balance as his feet left the ground. When he crouched it repeated a similar manoeuvre. She wondered if he was consciously controlling the action or if it was instinctive, like walking. She suddenly realised how well he balanced. How he was barely moving. When she squatted she would wobble sometimes so hard she was obliged to press her fingertips to the ground to renew her stability. With a tail, clearly that was unnecessary; the appendage provided all the balance he needed. What would happen if it ever got cut off? Would he be able to walk properly? Would he fall over a lot?

She blinked. _Gods, how long have I been staring at his tail?! Oh please don't let him be -_

He was.

He was looking right at her.

She'd been caught red handed.

Garnet returned his penetrating, unreadable stare for a split second before dropping her own to the babbling brook. He'd fooled her! By continuing to scrub at the filthy garments she'd thought his gaze was elsewhere, the devious beast!

Yet, she was angrier at herself. How foolish of her to openly stare and do little else! How had she expected him _not _to notice? How indiscreet! How idiotic! How… _embarrassing_!

She didn't need a vanity glass to know her cheeks were cherry-red; the furious heat was telltale. How she wished the ground would swallow her, or the creek would become a river and wash her away! She should get up and leave _right this second_ to avoid humiliating herself further. Gods, he was so quiet! What was he thinking? Was he mad? Was he embarrassed? _Oh gods please please please break this awful silence! _

But the gods' attentions were either elsewhere or they were taking pleasure in her discomfort, for her plea remained unanswered. The silence stretched out like the winding creek and when she mustered the courage to look at him again she found his gaze had (gratuitously) reverted back to the river; she had been released from the azure stare that made her legs turn to jelly and her thoughts vanish in a cloud of nervousness.

Had he always made her feel this way? Or had the little episode earlier unlocked these tender thoughts and feelings that singed her heart with burning fingers? What was this emotion, anyway? Lov -

_For goodness sake, not that again! _Garnet reprimanded herself, furiously scrubbing at a pair of breeches gripped within white knuckles and dirt-smeared fingers. Why did everything seem to revolve around that blasted word? It was simply ridiculous and she refused to pursue the subject further.

The silence remained an unbroken, heavy thing, stretched so taut it could tear at any moment.

Nervously, she flicked him the quickest look imaginable. His brow was furrowed either from concentration or anger. If only she could read minds! She considered the screens of dirt swirling beneath the water's surface for just a second longer before temptation returned her gaze to his tail.

It was as she'd seen it last, rigid and straight, outstretched for balance. It didn't so much as twitch. That was a shame. She could have interpreted his emotions (she'd gotten good at said activity, in fact she found it a rather enjoyable past time) but its current state rendered her interpretation skills useless. Funny, she'd never seen it so still before, but then again perhaps it took a degree of concentration to balance as perfectly as he was -

"You're so obvious."

She dropped the breeches but Zidane grabbed them before they could float away.

His words threw kindling on the fire of her blush. "Wh-what…?"

His eyes met hers, dead serious. "You're staring again."

_Again?! How long has he known? Have I been so obvious? Dear Eidolons how could I be so negligent…!?_

She dropped her gaze, stared numbly at her water gushing through parted fingers. She wished the creek were so wide he wouldn't be able to see her blush, or she see his trenchant, staid eyes. She frantically groped for the words: meaningful, apologetic, reasoning, but in the end all she found to say was: "Sorry."

He paused and she could hear the gurgle of the stream, the drip-drip-drip of water as it trickled from the clothes drying over branches and pattered to the ground. The sky was a gentle purple now, tinged cobalt blue around the fringes.

"C'mere," he instructed suddenly.

Garnet looked up and he was patting the ground beside him with his bare, wet hand. A tiny smile played across his features. A smile she'd never seen before, but it was warm, not teasing and strangely… what was the word?

Enticing?

Surely not. Some mistake.

However, she complied and daintily hopped across the creek, dirty clothes forgotten. He stared up at her through a curtain of matted hair, cerulean eyes surprisingly sombre. As a result, she found herself slightly suspicious of his unusual behaviour, and the embarrassment of being discovered analysing his tail hadn't faded enough for her to feel comfortable in his presence just yet.

"C'mon," he urged when she hesitated. "We need to talk."

Oh, that ominous phrase! How she hated those three words! They inevitably signalled the beginning of a heartfelt conversation or tedious scolding. She figured it wasn't the latter and thinking of anything 'heartfelt' with Zidane made her insides flutter.

However, against better instincts (she was expert at evading his pathetic advances), she did as he bade and settled on the moist dirt next to him, staring fixedly at the chuckling stream. Unnervingly, he stared directly into her profile. She wished she were anywhere but there.

"Obsessed, much?" It wasn't a question and she didn't like the teasing undertone.

"I am _not_…"

"Oh yeah?"

"Zidane… _don't_."

"What?"

"Tease me!"

"Oh, that's rich coming from the likes of you!"

"What?" she yelped, shocked and hurt by the allegation. "What do you mean? I've never teased -"

"So what _do _you call grabbing my tail and giggling like a freakin' loonatic before denying the entire thing like it was a total accident? Hmm?"

She paused. He was looking across the stream now, hands flat on the ground behind him, leaning back, shoulders hunched slightly. He didn't look particularly angry. And he _did _have a point. She'd just never thought about it that way before…

"Sorry."

"Yeah, I heard that part. What I wanna know is why."

She fiddled with her hair. Any awkward situation in the past was timid as a Mu compared to this one…

"I… I don't know…"

"Yeah ya do."

"I… can't…"

"Try."

_Darn, he's not letting up_. She sighed. "I'm just curious that's all. I've never seen a person with a tail -" _Did he wince?_ "- so naturally I… I just wanted to…to, um…"

"You could've asked."

She blinked, surprised. He turned his head so their eyes met. Stern.

"'Asked…?'" she repeated lamely.

"Yup. Actually, you know what, you can ask me anything."

"Huh?"

"Go on. Ask away. Get it out of your system. I don't mind. Anything."

She swallowed. Was he serious? Anything? A thousand questions flitted in and out of perception; she had so many! But now they were frustratingly out of grasp, evasive as Zidane whenever the word 'bath' was mentioned.

The first one to pop to mind (and erroneously articulate itself) was: "Does it fall out?"

He emitted a strangled, shocked sound and stammered: "Wh-what the hell does -"

"Oh um, what I meant is… does the hair fall out?"

"What?"

"Do you _moult_?"

"Oohh…" He grinned mischievously. "Take a look."

He brusquely ran a hand over his tail (a gesture she found intriguing to watch and suddenly the urge to touch it surfaced again) and showed her the result. Stuck to his wet palm were a dozen strands of fine hair.

There was something unpleasant about this development, though Garnet couldn't pinpoint why. Perhaps it was because moulting was so animalistic (it reminded her of her mother's cat) or perhaps it was the way he was so casual about the whole thing. To him, it was an everyday process but to her, it was completely alien.

"Oh," she managed finally and because she didn't want him to feel awkward she quickly added: "Does it moult with seasons?" She was recalling the way her mother's cat shed its winter coat for summer, then summer for winter. It left hairs all over the bedcovers. The thought of Zidane doing the same made her want to giggle.

He shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe. Don't really notice."

This surprised her somewhat. "Does it annoy you?"

"My tail? No. I don't really think about it. Like… you don't stop and say, 'Geez my arm's really annoying me today', right?"

She shook her head. So she was right: he did view it as a normal limb.

She was staring openly at the furry appendage now, which felt good. She no longer feared being rude nor considered her questioning intrusive; any possible awkwardness on his behalf was dismissed by a casual tone. She wondered if he got asked this kind of thing a lot.

As she watched, it skittered across the ground, sweeping loose debris and making a gentle swishing sound. There was a dead leaf snagged in the fur. She wanted to pull it free and before she really knew what she was asking: "Can I touch it?"

She expected some crude remark, maybe even a cross objection. What she got instead was a look so foreign on Zidane's visage he could have been wearing a mask.

Apprehension.

"Oh – I… I'm sorry, that was so – so rude…!" she stammered, appalled by her behaviour. Her etiquette tutor would have been horrified!

He shrugged, alien expression unmoved, fingers drumming the earth uncomfortably. Zidane! Zidane Tribal _uncomfortable_! The words just didn't go together, like two pieces of different puzzles.

"Well, I really hate it being touched," he explained expansively. "It's really err… like… really…"

_Sensitive_, she supposed he wanted to say, but that would be a rather effeminate admission so she respected his unwillingness to accurately articulate his emotions, recoiling again from her shocking behaviour and the awkward situation it had thrust the genome into.

"Never mind," she dismissed with feigned indifference.

"Yeah but what I was gonna say was… as it's _you_ I guess… I guess it's okay." If it weren't for the serious expression she would have thought him flirting. So, what then? Did he trust her? Really _like_ her? In…in _that_ way…?

But she felt uncomfortable about the whole thing now. Like if she fulfilled her perverse desire she would be… well, she would be just that: perverse.

"No really, it's fine," she said, urging the subject to change but unable to initiate such feat. "Forget it."

He shrugged, suddenly disinterested. "Fine. Just don't grab it like that again, freaks me out, y'know?"

She nodded (though she didn't know at all) and he stood, stretched and she followed suit. He started walking away and suddenly, for no reason she could think (she really wasn't thinking at all) she lurched forward and grabbed his tail again.

He yelped and stopped in mid step, shoulders hunched in a way a cat might arch its back when alarmed. His fur had bristled and he half turned as if to say something but she reached down with her other hand and ran it along the length. He shuddered; shoulders slumped. She smoothed the fur down but it was still a little prickly which meant he was uncomfortable.

Again, that odd word: a square peg in Zidane's circular personality.

She ran her fingers through the thick, coarse hair and noticed the strands that stuck to her damp palm, exactly like stroking a wet cat. She wondered if it got fleas but resolved not to ask as she'd demonstrated enough rudeness thus far to stun a court to silence.

Garnet continued to trail both hands along the limb consecutively; pausing only to tease the end with her fingertips, invoking a twitch so erratic it could only be reflexive, but she guessed it irritated him anyway so stopped and resumed stroking.

It was wiry, she could tell, and incredibly muscular. Not quite the strength of an arm but near enough. Perhaps its slimness (about the width of Garnet's wrist) hindered its potential. The whole appendage seemed somewhat illogical and the awful notion of 'partially evolved ape' sprung to mind and she recoiled. What a horrible comparison! But then again, what use did the limb entail? She thought about this for a protracted minute and eventually reached this conclusion: having a tail wouldn't be as disadvantageous as originally perceived. Why? Well, it was strong enough to sustain his weight (possibly elevate him from trouble) and lift weaponry; it aided his equilibrium and was an added sensory, kind of like eyes in the back of his head (the way cat's whiskers could judge the capacity of its surrounding space).

So, maybe he wasn't so much _un_evolved. Quite the contrary; the limb enabled a somewhat superior –

Zidane's moan terminated her train of thought and she looked up.

His head was slumped upon his chest and his shoulders sagged. His breathing was heavy, almost laborious. What was wrong with him? Was she hurting him or –

Realisation dawned as sharp and painful as a knife in the gut.

_Oh gods. Oh all seeing, holy _gods_. He isn't…surely not… surely…he isn't…?_

But the more she watched him (hands frozen against his tail) the more his body language confirmed her fears.

Zidane Tribal was enjoying this a little _too_ much.

As if any sudden movement would provoke an unwanted reaction, Garnet swallowed noisily and slowly – oh so slowly – released her grip on his tail. She felt distinctly dirty; like she'd been doing something she really _shouldn't_ be doing (had she?) and she forcefully wiped her hair-plastered hands on the legs of her overalls. She felt sick. Sick and soiled. And what was worse, she'd really set herself up for this one. Sure, she could blame Zidane all she wanted (he could've stopped her) but he'd been the one to walk away and she'd been the one to initiate the rebellious contact and now –

Now… what?

Zidane was staring ahead, his tail hanging utterly still. She noticed with growing concern that his heavy breathing hadn't subsided. She wanted to say something but the words were as distant as the first stars pricking the sky. What was worse, she could tell he was thinking – no, not thinking, _deliberating_.

She didn't know what to feel. Scared, nervous, disgusted, angry? Zidane was a good guy but she'd set herself up for this one big time. She didn't know the way male's minds worked. Did he see her venture as an advance?

_Was_ she advancing?

Confusion muddled her senses.

Yet, as it happened, the decision was made for her. Zidane jerked round and faced her and she caught a glimpse of clouded, lustful eyes before he eclipsed any further scene (and thought) by leaning forward and pressing his lips vigorously against hers. She yelped against his advance (more shocked than scared) as he gripped her arms and pushed her back against the trunk of a tree.

Garnet was stunned; she couldn't comprehend what was happening. He was kissing her, sure, but labelling such a thing and realising it was painfully indistinguishable at the moment.

He was motionless for a long time (or a few seconds; time became stultified), hands lightly gripping her arms and warm lips pressed eagerly against hers. She wondered if he was reconsidering or if he was thinking at all. She could feel his cool palms beneath the flimsy silk of her sleeves and his ragged, warm breath against her cheek. She couldn't taste his lips but disconcertingly realised that she actually quite wanted to - though out of curiosity or desire she wasn't sure.

Eventually he moved: shuffled a little closer and adjusted his lips so they fit snugly against hers. She was hunched somewhat uncomfortably against the abrasive bark but dared not move case the fragile moment shattered. She felt tense but inquisitive about the ordeal (this was her first kiss, she noted dully, as all her daydreams of giving the gesture to a knight on a white horse flew out the window) and gently probed her feelings on the matter at hand.

Sure, she liked Zidane. He was kind, brave, animated and witty, but brash, crude and occasionally condescending. What did she feel toward him? She couldn't put a word to it, but it made her insides flutter slightly. What did he feel toward her? She didn't know. Was this lust or love? He'd claim the latter, she knew, but at the end of the day he was a male and males generally needed –

Further probing was severed as his lips began to move tentatively (and somewhat expertly, she noted) against hers, capturing her top lip and drawing it inward to gently suck. The feeling it invoked sent heady waves of dizziness her way, eclipsed any rational thought. It felt like her mind was melting and her heart was beating so hard it resounded about her body like a bass drum.

Zidane released her arms (they remained where they were, stiff and tense) and slipped his hands around her waist, pulling her to him and deepening their kiss by teasing her lips apart and sliding his tongue inside.

She stiffened considerably (she'd never thought people did this when they kissed!) but let him have his way, still unsure whether she liked it or not but failing to fight the fluttery, lust-driven butterflies calling for attention within the pit of her belly.

For the first time since kiss initiated, Garnet mustered the courage to return the gesture. She did so shyly but with an air of unmasked curiosity that lent her the audacity to capture his bottom lip and trail her tongue across it. She couldn't believe what she was doing! A queen frolicking with a thief in a wood! She thought herself long past those comparative labels but this reawakened them a little. Just a little.

As the kiss deepened further and his hands began to roam (trails of fire against her skin even with the clothes obstructing their path) Garnet began to wonder how far this would go. Or more, the question should have been, how far did she _want_ it to go? Zidane was undoubtedly prepared to go all the way but… could she really do that? Here? With him? Now?

But she simply didn't have the strength the break the giddy kiss. It was too spectacular, too heady, too novel, too –

"PRINCESS!"

Zidane leapt away from her so fast he stumbled backward over the forgotten pile of dirty washing and tumbled into the creek with a colossal splash, spurting curses all the way. Garnet's head flew back at the same time, thudding against the scratchy bark hard enough to invoke stars before her vision.

"PRINCESS! WHERE ARE YOU?" Steiner's voice boomed again.

Between the deafening, rapid thumps of her heart Garnet managed to feel relieved. He hadn't seen them, like she'd originally thought, but would soon come upon their spot and draw the conclusions for himself. Steiner was ineloquent but no fool.

Ignoring the still cursing genome, the princess hopped across the stream (with some difficulty as her legs were as wobbly as a Flan) and resumed washing the garments, urging her blush to subside and the beating of her heart settle.

"Over here, Steiner!" she yelled as an afterthought, cursing the waver in her tone.

She glanced at Zidane. He was standing in the middle of the creek, soaking wet, wringing his shirt out grumpily and muttering curses.

The usual clamour of rusting armour signalled the arrival of her dutiful escort and she had the courtesy to acknowledge him as he approached.

"Princess!" the knight yelled, casting a suspicious glance at the soaked thief. "Where have you been? I was fraught with concern when the Qu returned without you. Why do you remain in this alien environment without consort? It is dangerous!"

Garnet shook her head. "Zidane's here, isn't he?"

Steiner turned and cast Zidane a long, distrustful stare through narrowed eyes. "Why are you wet, thief?"

"Takin' a bath," said thief replied.

Steiner scoffed. "Rubbish! You and the word 'bath' have never yet been uttered in the same sentence. Besides, you're fully clothed and should not – under any circumstances – _ever_ have the presence of mind to bathe before the princess. Your idiocy is incomparable and your uncouth state of -"

"Steiner, _please_," Garnet pleaded. "I'll come back with you now. I'm sure Zidane's more than capable of finishing the laundry alone."

Zidane grumbled something under his breath that she failed to catch as Steiner led her away, yet she couldn't resist a backward glance over her shoulder. She managed to catch Zidane's eye and mouth 'sorry'. He threw her a crooked grin and mischievous wink that ignited that feeling of…of…

Love?

…

Maybe.

* * *

_I'm thrilled with the response this silly fic got, thank you so much! I'm still not overly happy with the ending but meh. I'm lazy. Sue me. Anyway, any reviews left will be welcome! Thank you very much for reading._


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